Neteyam

Slap Slap

Viryn was seated in Mo'at's tent grinding leaves into a paste. "You look unwell." The elder stated simply as she was hanging up branches to dry. "You haven't slept?" Viryn didn't look up from her bowl. "Beyt caught a cold, it kept her up all night." Mo'at hummed. "No other reason?" The old woman was just as upset that her family had to be exiled for their safety but was clearly better at hiding her own grief. When Viryn merely shrugged Mo'at decided she would ask outright. "Why didn't you go with them?" Viryn crushed the leaves harder so that the sound of its juices became louder. "I have responsibilities here." She grabbed another fistful of leaves and threw it into the bowl. "Now that Kiri is gone there is only me as your apprentice. The clan is not stable yet with the new Olo'eyktan, I'm not going to cause more harm because of my selfishness." Mo'at hummed. "So you wished to go."

The teen girl gripped the mortar and pestle as she tested the thickness of the paste. "Yes." She whispered. "Then I will ask you again. Why didn't you?" Mo'at sat across from Viryn cross legged. She put a hand over Viryn's to stop her from the aggressive grinding. "Tell me." The girl rubbed her nose and remained staring at the bowl. "I can't leave Merq'ena behind." The Tsahik studied her pupil's face diligently. Eyeing the way the girl constantly fiddled with the stone handle in her hands. "I can't ask her to leave with me either, she lost one clan already." Viryn looked up at the Tsahik. "And all the other kids that rely on us. They lost their parents already, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. They're the only family I've got left." Viryn shook her head. "Do you ever wonder of your fate?" Mo'at asked her. "The idea that the great mother plans a path for us." Viryn looked up at her Tsahik. Her eyes red from the lack of sleep and puffy from shedding tears. "I thought that fate was a constricting view of Eywa's path?" Mo'at waved the comment away.

"Give me your hand." Viryn lowered the paste and gave the Tsahik her hand. "Look at this line here, it means you are bound to find happiness." Mo'at pointed at one crease on her palm. "This is called a life line. You can tell the variables of certain aspects of your life from how close they approach it." Viryn looked down at her palm. It was just creases on her palm to her. What meaning could there be in that? "This indicates you are bound to have a strong spiritual bond with Eywa." "What does this have to do with anything?" Mo'at allowed Viryn to pull her hand back to her own lap. "I appreciate your teachings Tsahik, but I'm honestly not in the mood to discuss fate and destiny." The girl stood up and picked up the bowl of thick green paste. "I'm where I'm supposed to be, that's all I can say." "Are you?" Viryn sharply placed the heavy stone bowl on the ground so she could turn to Mo'at with a small scowl.

"You chose me to be Tsahik. Not to be with Neteyam, not to stay with the Sully family, to spiritually guide our people through hardships and triumphs after you." Her hands balled into fists at her sides. "That's what I'm preparing for every week when I come here all while I'm basically raising a whole army of orphans with my best friend when both of us do not what it's like to have a parent. That is my fate. That is what I'm meant to do to better the Omaticaya." Mo'at tilted her head. "That is your mind speaking. What does your heart say?" Viryn turned back around to scrape the paste onto different sheets of leaves. "I don't want to do that right now." "Think of it as part of your training." Mo'at pushed again. The old woman was stubborn and dared Viryn to snap at her again.

"What do you want me to say? Something sappy about how I'm going to leave everything I've ever known to be with some boy?" Viryn scoffed. "I'm not as impulsive as you think I am." Mo'at hummed. "My daughter spoke of you saving her son's life. Then coming to protect the rest of his siblings while putting your life and the life of your sister at risk. I wasn't sure until I saw you sending them off." Mo'at stood up and put a hand on Viryn's shoulder. "Do you not think that they are also your family?" The teen sucked in a breath and stopped her work. "Eywa has rewarded your faith with what you have always been searching for. Are you going to let this gift slip from your fingers?" "But, what about your apprentice? What about the Omaticaya?" Mo'at smiled gently at Viryn, it wasn't big or sweet but it was heartwarming nonetheless. "Do not doubt the tenacity of your clan. You have earned your fate, do not waste it to wallow under the weight of burdens that are not yours to carry." A sudden pin dropped in Viryn 'a head that began to echo over and over again in the hollow of her skull. Viryn hugged Mo'at, the feel of her beaded shawl did not hurt her. "I will send your love to Neytiri and the rest of your family."